


stories

by agentcalliope



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Family, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Understanding, canon compliant as of 5x13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-03 18:19:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14001840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentcalliope/pseuds/agentcalliope
Summary: Deke’s pretty sure that intelligence is genetic.He’s beginning to think that being an asshole is, too.





	stories

* * *

 

He thinks about it.  
  
Deke thinks about it, and the more he thinks about it the more he thinks that he himself is an asshole. He should’ve let it go when he noticed how quiet they had both become, how Fitz had to tear his gaze from the screen, and how Jemma reacted.

 

Deke may not know a lot of things, like his own damn IQ, but he knows that people don’t freak out like Fitz did over vacations. Or hotels.

  
Or maybe they do? He doesn’t know how people from the past behave. But he thinks that he touched upon something he wasn’t supposed to, and whatever it was, it was something huge.

 

Something terrible.

  
But he also thinks that Fitz’s an asshole. There’s that, too.  
  
Deke scoffs. Shakes his head, leans back in his seat. Rubs his eyes with his fists. It’s not like being an asshole is genetically inherited. His mom definitely wasn’t an asshole, and neither seems to be Jemma. Maybe Fitz isn’t either, and it’s just Deke who’s the asshole.

  
He opens his eyes, looks around, and somehow manages to make eye contact with Fitz who’s standing, as always, besides Jemma. Deke smiles, gives a little wave.  
Fitz blinks, turns away.  
  
Deke thinks about it some more.  
Deke thinks about it, and the more he thinks about it the more he thinks that being an asshole might, after all, be genetic.  
He drums his fingers on the desk, and then pushes himself up. Stretches with an audible groan, ignores the pointed look he knows Fitz is giving him and walks away.

  
He’s decided he doesn’t have anything to lose, but everything to gain.

* * *

  
“Question.”  
“No, you cannot eat a Tide Pod.”  Daisy answers quickly, stepping off the ladder while holding a bin, turning around to face him.  
“I don’t even know what a Tide Pod is.” Deke pauses. “But why not? Are they tasty but fattening?”  
Daisy sighs. “Never mind. Do you have one question or, like, a billion?”  
“Wow.” He says, placing his hands on his hips, cocking his head to the side. “Well, if you’re going to be rude about it, then, never mind then.”

  
Deke hasn’t known any of these people for that long, but he knows Daisy well enough to know that she looks like she wants to strangle him, and he knows her well enough to know that she definitely could.  
  
He thinks about it. He thinks about it, and the more he thinks about it the more he knows he’s an asshole.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Deke begins, bringing his arms to his side. “I’m sure you’re really busy. I do want to ask you a question, though. Only one. I promise.”  
Daisy shifts her grip on the box, takes a breath like she’s about to say something but then shakes her head. She walks over to a table, sets down the bin and starts taking things out. “Okay then. Shoot.”  
  
Deke follows, wringing his hands. “So, earlier, when the Fitz's were searching for the ship, I asked what the bottom of the ocean was like. They seemed like they already knew about it—”  
He watches as Daisy pauses, frozen, staring at the box in front of her. Her fingers curled around some sort of small, plastic container. Deke smiles. He may be an asshole, but at least he’s a smart asshole. Is intelligence genetic? He’ll have to ask.

  
“—But when I wanted to know more, Fitz totally freaked out on me. Totally uncalled for. So, either something happened, or Fitz is just a dick.”  
  
Daisy places the plastic container down gently, even though her tone is anything but. “First of all, they aren’t ‘the Fitz's’. Don’t call them that. Don’t even call them Mr. and Mrs. Fitzsimmons, either, because Fitz has a PhD and Jemma has two.”  
  
He has no idea what a PhD is. He doesn’t ask.  
  
“Second of all,” Daisy takes a deep breath and then looks up at him. “Don’t call Fitz a dick. You don’t have a clue what he’s been through. What they’ve been through, what _we’ve_ all been through—”  
“—Yes, yes. We’ve _all_ been through _something_ .” Deke interjects. “So, tell me. What happened to them?”  
  
Daisy bites her lip, shakes her head. Turns back to the box and reaches in, pulls out a bigger container. “It’s… its not my story to tell.”  
  
He throws his hands into the air. Grunts out between clenched teeth a thank you, although he doesn’t mean it. He begins to walk away.  
“Deke.”  
He looks back at her, and she’s looking back at him, too.  
“If you want to know, you should ask.”

* * *

  
He thinks about it. He thinks about it, and the more he thinks about it the more he decides to ask Jemma.  It was quite an easy decision to make, actually. Honestly, it wasn’t even a decision to make at all. And he walks throughout the Lighthouse, searching for her.

  
But because the universe is apparently a _bigger_ asshole, he finds himself finding Fitz first.

Okay, he doesn’t find him at all.  
  
_Thump._

  
“Hey, watch where you’re going!”  
Deke manages to smile, or at least as close to a smile as he can get. “Sorry. Didn’t see you there, Gramps.”

  
(Deke is an asshole, after all.)

  
Fitz glares. Brushes off his sweater, as if colliding with Deke made his clothes dirty. He places his hands on his hips, cocks his head to the side.  
“Well? You’re in my way.”  
Deke steps aside, grandly gestures with his arms a pathway. Fitz keeps glaring, walks through.  
  
Deke smiles brightly back at him.

  
He watches Fitz go down the hall, turning left into the kitchen. And then he thinks about it. Really, really thinks about it.

  
“Dick,” he calls himself under his breath.   

  
And he runs after his asshole grandfather.  
  
The kitchen is empty except for the both of them.  
“Fitz?” Deke asks.  
He doesn’t answer. Keeps his head in the opened refrigerator, hand on the handle. Deke notices that his knuckles are flushed with red.  
“I want to apologize for the other day, to you and Jemma.”  
Fitz looks at him, eyebrows raised. Deke clears his throat.  
“I was a bit rude, without meaning to be. I pressed when I shouldn’t have, and that was my mistake.”  
Fitz shuts the fridge. “Oh. Um, well. Thanks for the apology, I guess.”  
  
They stare at each other.

  
Deke clears his throat, again. “You don’t have to tell me what happened. You don’t owe me an explanation.”  
“I didn’t think I did.” Fitz all but snarls.

  
Deke raises his hands in front, makes his eyes wide. “Calm down, dude. I’m just saying that you don’t have to tell me anything. That’s all.”

  
He quickly turns around and leaves.  
 

* * *

  
He’s lying on the couch, trying to figure out this thing Daisy gave him. It’s called a Rubik’s Cube.

Deke’s only had it for about ten minutes, and already he’s deciding whether to chuck it against the wall, set it on fire, or both, when they appear in front of him.

  
He sits up. Watches as Fitz looks down, wringing his hands. Watches as Jemma smiles.  
“Fitz told me about your apology,” she says. “It was very kind of you.”  
“Uh,” he replies. “You’re welcome.”  
  
They’re all quiet. He’s staring at them, and they’re staring at him. He thinks about it, and he doesn’t know what to do.  
Jemma walks over to a couple of chairs, brings them over. Fitz remains still.  
  
They both sit down, and they tell him their story.  
  
Fitz begins, telling him about their friend Ward, who wasn’t really their friend at all. Jemma tells him about how they sank to the bottom of the ocean, how they were going to die.  
  
Jemma tells him, taking deep breaths, taking Fitz’s trembling hand in her own trembling hand, how there was only enough oxygen for one of them.  
Fitz tells him, voice low and laced with memory, how Jemma couldn’t let him go, how she held onto him and held on tight, and swam to the surface.  
  
  
  
Then they both tell him about brain injuries and heartache. Blue planets and heartbreak. Love and robots and mad scientists and virtual worlds.

  
The future.

  
  
When they finish, they look at one another, wipe away each other’s tears, and forget that they’re not alone.  
  
Deke’s an asshole, but he’s not _heartless_ .  He swallows the lump in his throat, blinks back some of his own tears, and waits for them to remember him.  
“Thank you for telling me,” he says softly. “You didn’t need to do that.”  
  
Fitz shrugs. Jemma nods.  
And they stand up and walk away without uttering another word.

  
(what more could they say?)       

* * *

             **  
** He thinks about it.

  
He thinks about it, and the more he thinks about it the more he thinks that he’s really an asshole. But he’s also smart. Helpful. Understanding. And just as they were so quick to judge him, he was quick to judge them, too. There’s more to a person than what’s written in their code, the places and experiences they’ve lived.

He thinks that, maybe, he’s not just an asshole.

  
He hopes they feel the same.


End file.
